Belated Happiness
by Elie.N.P
Summary: Tears started to run down his cheeks. He should have understood it earlier. What would make his mother the happiest, and please him the most too, was the same thing. One-shot


**This is a Draco/Hermione one-shot. I hope you'll like it even if the characters may be OOC. **

**I apologize for the mistakes, I'm not an English woman so be indulgent =)**

**Enjoy your reading! I wish you a belated Merry Christmas!**

**Elie**

* * *

><p><span>Belated Happiness<span>

The Christmas tree, the tasty dinner waiting on the table, the expensive crockery, the fire lightening and warming the room, everything was perfectly set up. Everything was ready for them to spend a wonderful Christmas, a perfect Christmas.

Draco clenched his fists. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to celebrate anything, not there, not when she wasn't by his side, but what could he do? How could he have refused his mother?

She had called for him, he was there, yet, as soon as this masquerade would be over, he'd leave this place. It wasn't his home any more, it was only a house where he'd spent a part of his life.

This house wasn't his life, only a part of it, a small part. Nothing which mattered really. Nothing which brought him happy memories. If it wasn't for his mother, he wouldn't have ever returned between those walls. They were his prison.

"It really feels like Christmas, doesn't it Draco?"

He nodded.

Narcissa frowned but said nothing. She knew something was wrong with her son, yet she wouldn't bring up the subject as long as he didn't broach it himself. She didn't want to force him.

She wasn't a fool. She knew how much Draco despised taking part in this play she organized every year.

In order to offer her the Christmas she dreamt of, Draco'd play his role of the obedient son. He'd bear his father's bitterness, listen to his lingering stupidities about their supposed superiority - however he'd always refuse to agree with him.

Narcissa, though frustrated by their stupid game, wouldn't allow them to have a peaceful Christmas as long as they both didn't say anything. The men of her life needed to be honest with themselves, and with each other – that would be the best.

She was being cruel, but she was doing it for them – more for Draco to be exact, because she feared it might be too late for Lucius. She should have done it much earlier, then there might not be a so lame family atmosphere when they were together.

"Your father will be home for seven."

Draco nodded again.

"It'll only be the three of us."

She was trying to push him on the edge, yet it seemed like her son had more self-control than she thought.

'He's grown up.'

She'd have said it aloud, smiling, if she'd been less upset with him. She wouldn't compliment him till he hadn't stood up against her.

"Draco?"

He turned toward her, but she could see his eyes were only looking through her, not at her.

"Yes Mother?"

"Is there something wrong? Something you'd like to tell me?"

He might only need a small push.

"Nothing Mother."

Narcissa clenched her fists. She'd never slapped her son, however it'd be a lie to say she wasn't craving to do it right now.

"Well, if there is something I'm in the kitchen," she sighed.

Before disappearing from the living-room, she glanced back at her son, who was standing motionlessly in front of the Christmas tree. She rolled her eyes.

Draco could only stare at the tinsels. They brought so much light in this dark house. His hand reached out for them, could he hope to live in a place which wouldn't need tinsels to feel warm?

Could he hope to find happiness outside of this prison one day?

To be honest he'd already found happiness somewhere else, somewhere far away from here, somewhere he wished he could be right now.

He didn't know why, in spite of his huge desire to run away, he couldn't. His feet wouldn't allow him to leave.

"Oh, you're already there."

Draco held back a sigh. Was it regret he heard in his father's voice? Not only, there was more in his tone, regret and bitterness, exhaustion and frustration. He wondered if the same feelings were present in his own voice when they talked to each other.

"Good evening father."

"Where is your mother?"

"In the kitchen."

"When do we eat?"

"When dinner is ready," Narcissa said, appearing in the threshold. "Go wash your hands."

Both men stared at each other, waiting to see who would take her words for him.

"Both of you," Narcissa ordered, frustrated by their antics. "Now!"

The table was already covered with food when they came back to take their seats under the glaring woman of their life.

Silence ruled between them, sometimes disturbed by Narcissa's comments, but never broke by a male voice.

They were sitting across from each other. It'd been a long time since Lucius had last had the right to sit at the edge of the table. That place belonged to the chief of the family, the person who took care of it, who did their best with what was left of them.

Narcissa was that person. She'd successfully prevented their name to be tarnished forever. She'd apologized, helped the Ministry to rebuild the Magic World, and closed her husband's mouth about his stupid beliefs of superiority – at least in public.

She wouldn't give him his seat back, not even if he stopped being so stubborn. She wouldn't give it to Draco either. If her son wanted such a seat, he had to find it himself, with his family around him, a family he'd have built up, a family he'd love, and not be forced to stay with.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow Draco?"

"It's Christmas, he stays with us," Lucius replied instead of his son.

"I wasn't talking to you Lucius," Narcissa snapped. "Draco?"

Her son didn't turn away. Each year his mother set up a dinner for Christmas Eve, and tried to free him for the morrow. Each year, in spite of his anger and though he obviously didn't appreciate to spend time with his son, Lucius refused to let him go on Christmas.

"I-" he began but was cut off again.

"I've invited some acquaintances, it's time for you to think of marriage Draco," Lucius continued as if his wife had said nothing. "The daughter of-"

"Lucius."

Narcissa's icy tone made him stop.

"Draco, do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"I-"

"He-"

"Lucius!"

"But-"

Narcissa's eyes were shooting daggers.

"Enough is enough Lucius. Stop with your antics you're ridiculous. Draco, because I'm your mother I know you well, because I love you I wanted to wait for you to decide by yourself, but, once again because I'm your mother, I won't wait any longer. You finish your dinner and leave this house immediately."

"Narcissa!" Lucius punched the table. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Mother?" Draco's eyes had gone wide.

Her face softened. "Don't worry Draco, I'm not telling you to never come back. I'm telling you to leave a place where you don't want to be. It's been several years and you haven't had the courage to refuse my invitation yet. I thought I'd wait for you to stand up against me, but I can't bear to see you like that. Christmas isn't a time to be unhappy. Go, I know she is waiting for you."

"How do you?" he asked hesitantly.

She smiled gently. "I'm your mother, it's my role to know everything about my son."

"Have you two met?"

Narcissa nodded. "She came to see me, she wanted to verify that she understood well what I was trying to do."

"And?" Draco hurried her.

Her smile grew wider. "Go to her Draco. She is willing to take care of you as much as I am."

"Who are you both talking about?" Lucius raged.

"Isn't she supposed to have a calm evening alone?" Draco asked, with hope, totally ignoring his father.

"No," Narcissa answered with a small laugh, also ignoring her husband's outburst. "She is waiting for you."

As soon as the last words left her mouth Draco jerked up from his seat, ran to hug his mother, kissed her on both cheeks then left the room without a glance for his father.

"Draco! Draco!" Lucius shouted. "Where the hell are you going? Draco! And you! Why are you letting him leave on Christmas Eve? Shouldn't you be holding him back?"

Narcissa's smile disappeared. "Oh for Merlin's sake, you're so stubborn Lucius," she sighed.

"After all you've done for him! He is leaving like that! Without a word!"

She hit the table – hard and loudly – with her fist.

"Enough is enough Lucius. Haven't I said I didn't want to hear your stupidities any more? Your son is the best present I've ever got, and has just offered me what could please me the most."

"What! But he-"

Her second fist also hit the table. "Everything isn't about money or material things! Your son is happy, he thanked me, he is happy because I'm willingly letting him go. His happiness Lucius! My son's happiness! That is the best present I could ask for! Now finish your plate and go to bed!"

Lucius, astonished by his wife's words, and in spite of her departure, did as he'd been told. He sat back correctly, finished his plate, ate his dessert, drank his coffee and went directly to bed – where he knew Narcissa wouldn't be.

His wife had probably left the house on the spot, going to some place he didn't know about in order to be in peace.

His son had also left to be in peace. They had both left because of him, because he was a stubborn old man, a nostalgic old man, a stupid old man.

Was it too late for him to change? Yes, it was, besides Lucius didn't want to change at all. But it didn't mean he didn't acknowledge the situation was so bad because of him.

"I should apologize," he murmured before falling to sleep.

Lucius Malfoy apologizing to his family, they'd really need to believe in the magic of Christmas not to die of astonishment.

Draco didn't knock at the door. He went straight through the hall to the living-room and only stopped on the threshold of the illuminated room.

There she was, sitting cross-legged near the Christmas tree, lulled by the warmth of the fireplace. Her hair was running wild over her shoulders, yet its wildness was different from when they were kids. She didn't look like a nest any more but like a princess who can't be tamed.

She was his princess. A small smile stretched his lips. She was really there, waiting for him to return to her, to choose her over his childhood prison. She represented his freedom, his happiness, and even his mother had understood it before him.

It'd been five years since the war, five years since they'd put an end to their childish – and meaningless – feud, three years since they'd started being more than friends, and, now that he thought about it, four years since the two women of his life had probably been working together for him to claim his freedom.

During those past four years, she'd always been alone on Christmas Eve, alone in her house, alone with a fridge full of food, food enough to make dinner for two persons. During those past four years, she'd been ready to welcome him back, to celebrate his independence, to comfort him. She'd been ready to be there after he'd have faced his fears. She didn't expect him to throw a tantrum, all he needed to do was to spend Christmas somewhere else, somewhere far away from his prison.

All he had to do was accepting he wasn't a child any more. He didn't have to blindly obey his father, to take his beliefs for his, to agree with everything he said. He didn't have to feel responsible for his mother's happiness either. Narcissa Malfoy was strong enough to support her family, she didn't need her son to be always there.

Tears started to run down his cheeks. He should have understood it earlier. What would make his mother the happiest, and please him the most too, was the same thing.

"Draco," his princess murmured.

No, a thing wasn't right, it was a person who was the key of their happiness. A person who had been patiently waiting for him all this time.

"Draco," she murmured again.

He wiped off his tears. He'd been a fool to make her wait so long.

"I'm sorry," he whispered while kneeling in front of her. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Draco?"

"Yes sugar, I'm here," he said gently. "I'm sorry I should have come earlier."

She smiled at him. "I see. We're still on Christmas Ever, aren't we?"

He nodded. "I'm successful this year."

"Narcissa must be proud."

"Tired, and relieved. She'd finally be able to think of her first."

"She'll always think of you first Draco," she told him while caressing his cheek. "She'll only be less worried."

He kissed her hand.

"I'm home."

"Welcome back. Do you want some dessert?"

"I'd love it," he answered.

He got up, gently pulling her with him and leading them both to the table she had carefully set. His eyes lightened when he saw his favourite chocolate Yule log.

"Merry Christmas Draco," she breathed in his ear.

He delicately cupped her face and kissed her.

"Merry Christmas Hermione."

**The End**


End file.
